Intuition
by theaddisoneffect
Summary: Sometimes, we could all benefit from a little more guiding intuition. In this case, Derek has an urge to whisk Addison away on an unplanned adventure. It may be just the trip they need to break the formidable barriers his indifference laid the basis for. Begins with a different take on *the night*. Addek.
1. Chapter 1

"It just doesn't _work_ like this in the real world! Now I know you've seen that in every cliche Hallmark film you used to conjure up for us to watch, but-"

Sometimes, she's nothing short of dumbfounded by her husband's spontaneity. Especially in lieu of the fact that he hasn't even pretended to feign this much interest in them as a...well, a _them..._ for a long time.

"Addison. We're _going._ It's a beautiful state that neither you or I have seen on this side of the past decade."

And for what it's worth, they're in desperate need of some revival. This atmosphere, this homogeny, this omnipotent sense of void...it's all damaging in a way he may not exactly be able to pinpoint, but knows that the end of won't be pretty. Whatever "the end" would be, anyway.

"Patients, Derek. Patients!"

"You're telling _me_ to have patience? Now for that, I have to laugh. This is coming from the woman who seemed to be all on board with me practically mulling over that car the other day- and every other one down the line- so we could get to Bergdorf Goodman's before it closed for you to acquire yet _another_ ridiculously overpriced handbag. Why did I need to be there in the first place? And all because-"

"The _audacity_ you have to marginalize an expression of art- Oh, never mind. That wasn't the point, to begin with. I didn't say 'patience': I said 'patients'. Plural. As in human beings. You know, because we're physicians who have commitments that confine us to the premises of _this_ state..."

"We're department heads."

She's certainly aware of _that_ implication.

"Oh now that would just be a blatant abuse of authority I couldn't possibly justify invoking for us to go take some wild venture into the Coloradan wilderness. I can't forge a reason on your whim."

"Well luckily for you, you don't have to...because I already did! Pack your bags. Gird your loins. We've got to be at the airport by midnight to catch the plane."

Midnight. She looks down at her watch. Nine o'clock. A few simple calculations lead her to the conclusion that they'll need to be out the door by eleven to make this happen. Oh, he's got to be kidding.

"Derek, I hate this! _Hate-_ hate! There's no way I can possibly pack for a week's worth of tomfoolery in less than two hours. Besides, I need an itinerary! Are we going to be near Breckenridge? You know I haven't been skiing since that dreadful excursion my parents insisted we accompany Skippy Gold and his family on as some misguided matchmaking attempt. Or were you thinking more along the lines of an urban encounter? Now _that,_ I'm amenable to. I did hear about Saavy's lovely experience in Cherry Creek this past spring and-"

"No itinerary."

"Excuse me?"

"N-o i-t-i-n-"

"Oh, for the love of- I'm not _dense._ I just like to be prepared, is all. I mean, the disaster of that one Florida trip was all caused because you wanted our activities to be a surprise. They weren't a surprise to you since you planned the whole thing and packed accordingly, but I felt like a complete idiot because I had to wear my spare _surgery_ crocs for your stupid swamp excursion! I mean, who thinks of a swamp when their husband says, 'Florida!' and 'vacation'?! By all means, I get that you enjoy surprising people, but I happen to hate surprises because I can't prepare for something I'm not aware of and nearly being mangled by a crocodile was _not_ high on my to-do list."

Right now, he's trying with all of his might to not crack and let out a laugh at her expense. Leave it to Addison to reduce the entirety of the state's renowned Everglades to a _swamp_. Already though, he feels an indiscernible force lift. This is the most lively conversation they've had in too long. That is, before he'd begun to stop noticing her. Before she'd all but reclused at the sight of his arrival after a long night, anticipating a resentful glance in place of what used to be an adorning gleam. Yes, this trip is exactly what they need. Not that they'll ever get there at the rate Addison is...not going because she's too busy unleashing each and every less-than-splendid account of their calamities in Florida that, _fine,_ really weren't being exaggerated by much. Her tendency to ramble in times of distress or apprehension, while hard to sift through to find the most pressing points, has always been something that he finds endearing about her. It's reflective of her perpetual interlacing of thoughts, and frankly, it's just plain adorable. There it is again! Even a few hours ago, Derek acknowledges that he'd have grimaced at it. Something he used to love. Someone he knows he does love. What happened to him? Well, he may not have an answer to that question, but he sends a quick _thank you_ up towards some ambiguous spot in the ceiling. Whatever's up there (beyond the ceiling)- if anything- is doing him a great service as of late.

Ok. Where is Derek and what has this _man_ done with her (present day)husband? She could've sworn he'd smiled at her. An actual smile, not the Addison-just-take-this-as-a-social-cue-to-leave-me-alone sort of smile she'd grown accustomed to. Where on earth had he derived the inspiration to whisk her away- alright, that phrase may be setting the bar a little too high- to take her on trip to a vastly contrasting part of the country...willingly? This reminds of who her husband used to be, come to think of it. Though, if you ask anyone else, they'd say he's exactly the same, and indeed, he is...when he has to project a fabrication imitating what once was to the outside world. To his audience. In any case, tonight seems different. Innately so. _Ok, Addison, don't just stand here mumbling. Pack!_ As she gathers an array of belongings she hopes will suffice to serve her well on whatever this trip is, an all-enveloping sense of nostalgia seems to find its way into the space, and how could it not? For example, the ridiculous ski goggles she optimistically (as optimistic as a pragmatist can be, to be clear) believes won't actually call to be used in their upcoming excursions? Derek had purchased them for her subsequent to the massive blizzard of 1996 because lives are always in need of saving, no matter the weather, and he knew she preferred not to traverse the halls of the hospital first thing in the morning looking like a (her words, not his) raccoon due to the adverse toll relentless moisture partakes on a person's _makeup_. That's what her husband used to do. It's a fond memory to reminisce over.

"Addison?"

She whirls around to find a slightly inquisitive look on Derek's face.

"I uh, well I was just-"

"Pretty fond of the ceiling, dear?" _Did I just say, "dear"?!_

 _Did he just say, "dear"?!_

"Um." _Pause._ "I-"

"Well, I hope you're done doing...whatever it is that you were doing because we've got to get going."

He cocks his head slightly, still unable to fathom what on earth he'd just witnessed, but pleased to see her happy. In fact, he's pleased with himself that he's pleased to see her happy. It's almost like he…

... _cares about me again_! Though now she's convinced he's pegged as her as a bit looney...whatever. He cares that she's coming off as a bit looney! This calls for a celebration. Clearly, though, it'll have to wait until they've made it to the airport in time.

"I'm ready!" _Too enthusiastic, Addie...let's not push our luck._ "Erm, I'm ready. Meet you in the garage at ten-after? I just need to touch up my...my makeup."

He follows her gaze over to a little blob on the flannel adorned bed. Presumably, it's a pair of glasses that have been travel-proofed. She's still staring, eyes affixed on the little bundle.

"Addison. Are you _sure_ you're ok?"

"Of course! Ahem. Of course."

Why is she repeating every other phrase coming our of her mouth? He's a neurosurgeon. Surely, he'd know if something was seriously off...cognitively? He speculates over the plausible symptoms: darting gaze, poor concentration (that's a bit of a stretch)...nope. It's not adding up. He'll just take her word for it that things are alright. For now, anyway.

"Ok...see you in ten."

By some miracle, they manage to get out of the garage before 11:20. Sure, 11:00 had been the original target, but Derek figures he'll pick his battles and take what he can get. Heaven knows that enduring a four-hour plane flight with the likes of a notably passive-aggressive wife on the prowl- though the extents to which one can _prowl_ are certainly more limited on an airborne piece of machinery- is not high on _his_ to-do list.

\- xx -

 _If you love someone, tell them._ Mark continues to blare this repeatedly in his inner monologue, trying to create some semblance of calm for what happens to be the polar opposite of such. If anything helps, it's reminding himself that he'd been sent by Derek to attend the events that were by all means milestones in his wife's extraordinary career. That Derek had either forgotten or intentionally blown off- he's not sure which is worse- their past two anniversary dates, leaving him to comfort (and that _was_ all that had happened) the woman his best friend had vowed to share the rest of his life with. He hadn't _planned_ for any feelings to arise. Nevertheless, they accrued. It isn't fair, he resolves. It isn't fair that she has to feel inadequate and discarded day in and day out while her supposed husband goes about _his_ days without a care in the world. Without a care...that's the problem. Enough is enough. He's going to tell her how he feels. And with this, he takes his last few resounding steps over to the brownstone.


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow, they made it. Now, whether that was due to pure acquiescence (Addison) or sheer force of will (Derek's), they'll never know. In any case, the plane isn't set to leave for another _ hours, Addison hasn't come close to a mid-life crisis, and Derek is still convinced that he's made the right decision. By all definitions, it's a win. That, he does know. He can only hope that the rest of the trip will go just as smoothly, though that's surely nothing but wishful thinking. Even for him. What is it that they say? _Live in the moment._ Ah, yes. For what it's worth, living in the moment may not be as ridiculous of a notion as he thought. Addison may still not be on board with that abstract of an idea but she'll just have to- wait. Where is she? See, what was he telling himself earlier? Wishful thinking. Oh, let the troubles begin. Or- Is that her? Hastily, he pursues a svelte woman clad in black, oversized sunglasses on top of her head in front of a loosely strung-together bun. Hmm. Sunglasses. Midnight. Addison is a lot of things, and mindful is certainly one of them. Now, why would she be wearing those at this hour? She wouldn't be. This isn't her. Hey! He remembered something else he loved- no, loves- about her. Suddenly realizing that this is no longer an era without cellular communication, he whips out his phone to call her and get things back on track. It dials. It dials again. It dials eight more times after that. _Nothing._ Where on earth- rather, where in this airport could she have gone? _Think._ The only shop he knows she'd even entertain the idea of stepping foot in is that Fergameo- no, that doesn't sound right- Ferragamo store. In fact, he'd once lost her for a good hour in there. Later, after checking their credit card statement, he realized that he'd lost both her and a few thousand dollars from their checking account, not that he had a mind to bring it up. He knows, he knows...they're affluent enough to afford the finer things in life. Addison always has been, as a matter of fact. For him, it still takes everything in him to not visibly react to whatever obscene figure she spends on a pocketbook or a pair of shoes. He still can't fathom actually _paying_ for "footwear" bolstered by spiky daggers. He certainly won't complain about how amazing said spiky daggers make her legs look, though. Alright, and that one time she surprised him following a day's shift at the hospital in nothing but the red-bottomed spiky dagger contraptions, a set of thrilling lingerie, and two shining horns to complete the ensemble? That was a fun night. Huh. The same outfit in white would be nice. Perhaps he can convince Addie to buy a little halo hairpiece, not that it'll stay in place for long by the time he's through with her. A shrill ring snaps Derek out of his fantasies. Well, speak of the devil. Or angel. Depends on the night. Maybe he isn't quite _entirely_ out of the fantasies.

"Hello?"

"Derek! I-"

"ADDISON!" He stands up, not remembering when exactly he'd sat down in the first place. Oops. That was a little loud. The woman who's been taken aback next to him is a clear enough indicator. "Sorry," he offers, hand over the phone to ensure his message gets to the intended recipient. No response. Oh well. Onward.

" _Derek,_ I'm not hard of hearing."

"Tell that to the ten unanswered dials on your phone."

"Oh, would you just-"

"Let you finish a sentence?"

"Well, that'd be nice too." Derek can quite literally detect the ever-so-subtle change in her inflection that means she's gone full queen-of-passive-aggressiva on him, but if passive is happening now, aggressive is sure to happen on the plane and that isn't a risk he'd really like to take.

"Addison, honey-"

"Oh, you _really_ think calling me that is going to change the fact that you can't stop listening to the sound of your own voice for _two seconds_ to let me explain myself? You know what? I guess there's no merit for an explanation at all, then. Just concoct one up for yourself and repeat it until you get tired of talking. Do it until you're blue in the face! In fact, why even call me if you have no interest in anything I have to say?"

Success. He knew that using pet names to try and deflect a conversation gets on her last nerve (that is, if those pet names aren't accompanied by...other methods), and so his word choice may very well have instigated the aggressive early. Pre-plane. Whoo-hoo! At this rate, she'll have enough time to regain composure on her way back to the terminal and join him in a much more pleasant mood. He knows that she'll crack and tell the story of her enigmatic disappearance (that's probably anything but...sometimes, she can be a bit dramatic) while they're on board. He knows _her_. Hmm. He'd better throw in one more aggravator to make sure she lets it all out.

"I think I just listened for more than two seconds."

" _Derek,_ I _swear_ to- Oh, excuse me, ma'am! I'm so sorry; may I help you get your bag over to that bench? Hold on, Derek- NO, no, I know you're a woman. See, I'm on the phone with my husband, Derek- funny story, that's actually how I lost my focus to begin with and we came into a little closer contact than either of us would have preferred- Yes, so I've been told. Thank you! Glad to hear it brought someone joy, at least! Now, are you sure you're ok? I feel horrible for- If you insist. Have a nice flight. Ok. Derek, are you still on the line? I got into a bit of a predicament."

"So I heard, but it sounds like things mellowed out."

"Indeed. The woman said that listening to me 'this frazzled' was the highlight of her day but that I need to relax: live a little. You'd like her. Ok, I did too, but-"

"Addie, I hate to cut you off again but- Hello? Addison?" Nothing. Apparently, he'd gauged the timeliness for another joke regarding his tendency to interrupt today- which _truly_ hasn't been a conscious effort, he swears- wrong because he's pretty sure she just flat out hung up on him. He isn't too worried though, as she'll have to face him in the next...five minutes. He'll find a way to make it up to her. For the first time in a long time, he cares, and it feels good.

If Bizzy taught Addison anything, it was the art of preparation. As such, Addison may have left for the airport in attire that could be considered unruly, but she sure as hell wasn't going to stay like that. For what it's worth, Addison had always admired the days where people wore their very best to travel. It's something her family never stopped doing, in fact, and she supposes this is one of the things she still retains from her upbringing. Now, she clearly remembers telling Derek that she was going to go freshen up before doing exactly that, but it seems like he didn't hear her. Before tonight and her husband's complete change of heart, she'd have rendered that to be pretty normal, but she thought things were different. Well, not different; back to the way they once were. Nevertheless, he must've thought she'd disappeared off the face of the earth for a while because she'd simply turned right while he kept walking and she'd been slightly behind him to begin with. Hold on. Did she ever even tell him where she was? He _had_ called on the phone and she'd had every intention to do so, but...oh. Ok, _maybe_ she'll admit to an overreaction about the interrupting. She had to give him credit for worrying enough about her wellbeing to pick up the phone and call. Or...did she? Isn't that typical for a husband and wife to do, or for any two people who care about one another? That's just it; it hadn't been typical. Him expressing concern had become atypical. Credit, nevertheless, should be granted. She's happy to embrace his sudden want to change and acknowledging it couldn't hurt, right? Right. Now that she's settled that matter, it's time to book it over to the terminal to avoid being late. They'll be the first to board, naturally, and causing any unnecessary interferences is not her intention. She'll just pick up the phone, call Derek, and… No. This can't be happening. When Addison turns to her side to grab the phone lying in the outside pocket of her over-the-shoulder bag, she makes a number of realizations in rapid succession, each of which are more alarming than the one before it. One: she sees no shoulder strap on her person. Two: Accordingly, no bag is dangling just beyond her dip. Three: if no bag is dangling just beyond her hip, then no items inside the bag are there either. No phone, no identification...no ticket. No, no, no. To put the cherry atop of this lovely situation, she realizes that she never actually checked to see _which_ terminal the flight was meant to take off from. It was on the ticket, after all. _Well this is just perfect._


	3. Chapter 3

Derek hadn't exactly been certain of his decision to drag Addison along on something she'd likely already internalized as a looming rogue expedition to the wild west- ok, that'd be closer to Bizzy's phrasing, if he's being honest- but be that as it may, he could just about feel the crisp mountain air circling about jagged peaks and see the rippling waters of the state's grandest lakes. He remembers his mother recounting a trip she'd made there (through there, actually, but her version sounded better at family gatherings) with his father. Though they hadn't been in the position to take it for leisure, they took what moments they did have- between long bouts of driving- for the best, appreciating what serenity they could experience at the rest stops along the highway, through the glass of the vehicle. The view was still breathtaking.

Views. Viewfinders. He hopes they'll encounter a viewfinder at some point. Addison has always been pretty partial to them. Addison: where _is_ she? The last time he recalls seeing her was when he'd thought they were both on their way to the gate. What on earth could've happened between Point A and Point B? Knowing her, the answer is _plenty of things_. Wouldn't she have called by this point, though? They don't like to be late, her especially. Still, it's they. That's what happens when you're married: "her" and "him" aren't discernable. It's "they". They are a them again, right? When did they stop being a them? That's something he truly does want to consider at a later time, but right now, he needs them to be a "they" on this plane. He isn't leaving without her. He isn't _leaving_ her. Not again.

Things could be worse. Truly, they could be, couldn't they? Alright. This optimism thing isn't panning out. A pragmatist at heart, Addison knows that things are in fact pretty bad right now. She has no identification to prove that she is in fact herself and the last time she checked her phone, the plane was set to depart in about an hour. _How long has it been since then?_ She patrols the hall, hoping to find a clock somewhere.

Yeah, this is definitely turning out to be a worst case scenario. The jarring neon numbers make her draw in a breath. Thirty minutes. They're probably starting to board right now. She's almost certain of that. First class will be, anyway. _Damn me and my expensive taste._ She'll take that back some other time, but right now, she means it. Wondering just exactly what Derek is probably thinking right now, she grimaces.

 _What if he thinks I'm just not showing up? That this passive-aggressive to a whole new level: crossing the line._ That couldn't be farther from the truth. When he'd asked her to come on this trip, she thought it was a dream: a heartstring-pulling fairytale that was too good to be true. That's how their marriage used to be, though at the time, it really was true. Once upon a time, it was meant to be forever. Once upon a time, he saw his life in her eyes. Perhaps he'll find his way back. _Please let him find his way back._

At this moment, she needs to find his way back to him. Literally. Sheepishly, her feet stutter along to a help desk. This isn't her typical demeanor, but she's already anticipating the skepticism she's going to be faced with come the start of the conversation. _Hi, I'm Addison Forbes Montgomery-Shepherd, only you'll have to take my word for it because my purse disappeared into thin air about a half hour ago and I can't remember what flight I was meant to leave on. I know it's headed to Denver. In less than twenty-five minutes. My husband is there. Derek Shepherd, he-_ Wait. Actually, if he's the one who booked the tickets, she knows the credit card number that's linked to their shared account and may have have something to vouch for, after all. Sure, things were at their worst, but that doesn't mean they can't improve.


End file.
